


Exceptions

by telperion_15



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine takes Merlin on a little jaunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exceptions

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for the end of Season 3.

“What do you think about camping?” Gwaine asked, grinning.

“I think,” said Merlin, slowly and distinctly, “that it’s the worst torture known to man. And before you ask, no, sleeping out under the stars with Arthur every time he goes on some quest or rescue mission hasn’t improved my opinion of it one bit.”

Gwaine laughed. “Good job I’m not planning on taking you camping then, isn’t it?” he said.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “That sentence rather implies you are planning on taking me _somewhere_ ,” he said.

“I was thinking of proposing a little jaunt, yes.”

“Gwaine, I can’t just go off on a ‘little jaunt’ with you,” Merlin protested. “I don’t think Arthur would be very happy if his servant just dropped everything to go on a jolly.”

“Ah, but you forget, Arthur’s off on a jaunt of his own,” Gwaine said. “The ‘bonding with his new knights’ thing? All boys together and servants not required? You’ll have some free time.”

“Far be it from me to point out the obvious,” Merlin replied, “but aren’t _you_ one of Arthur’s new knights?”

“Yeah, but the bonding thing’s never really been my style,” said Gwaine, shrugging. “I always seem to end up annoying everyone in those kind of situations. You might not have noticed, but I don’t tend to get on with other people of the male persuasion very well.” He struck a pose. “They’re just jealous of my manly physique and my witty charm, I suppose.”

Merlin laughed. “You don’t annoy me,” he said. “We get on fine.”

“Well,” said Gwaine, leaning a bit closer, “I guess you’re the exception that proves the rule then, aren’t you?”

Merlin felt a slight blush stain his cheeks, although he was at a loss to account for it. He cleared his throat. “So, where _are_ you proposing to take me, then?” he asked.

Gwaine winked. “It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Everyone likes surprises,” Gwaine declared. “So, are you in or not?”

Merlin thought for a moment, and then sighed. “Of course I’m in,” he said.

Gwaine grinned again. “Fantastic.”

*~*~*~*~*

“You’ve brought me to a _drinking festival?_ ” Merlin said, looking around the crowded tavern before bestowing a glare on Gwaine.

The other man looked completely unabashed. “Not just any drinking festival,” he said. “But the Lindroth Valley Drinking Festival.”

“Oh right,” replied Merlin sarcastically. “The _Lindroth Valley Drinking Festival_. Of course. That makes it all right then.”

Gwaine gave him a nudge with an elbow. “Lighten up, Merlin,” he said. “Live a little. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Three hours later, Merlin had to admit that Gwaine might have been a little bit right. He _was_ having fun. Of course, the three mugs of ale he’d consumed might have had something to do with that, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care about the hangover he knew was waiting for him the next morning.

Across the tavern, Gwaine let out a shout of laughter and slammed another empty tankard down on the rough bench in front of him. Apparently, they’d arrived at the festival just in time for Gwaine to compete in the main event of the day, the ale drinking competition.

Somehow, Merlin was completely unsurprised by their good timing.

And at the moment, Gwaine appeared to be winning. The competition had started with eight contestants, of which three had bowed out pretty quickly, two were quietly snoring underneath the bench, and one had made a sudden break for the privy out the back of the tavern.

Now there was only Gwaine and another man left, and so far they were matching each other tankard for tankard, with plenty of encouragement from all the spectators.

Although Merlin couldn’t help but notice that most of the encouragement seemed to be for Gwaine’s opponent.

So when Gwaine looked in his direction a moment later and winked, Merlin lifted his mug in salute, and then got unsteadily to his feet, making his way towards the competition area and raising his voice to add some shouts for Gwaine to the general racket. One or two dirty looks were thrown his way – apparently it was bad form not to cheer for the local boy – but Merlin ignored them.

“Come on, Gwaine!” he shouted again.

Three tankards later, it was all over. Gwaine’s opponent let out an enormous belch, and then suddenly slumped forward over the bench, leaving Gwaine the last man standing.

He made his way over to Merlin, leaving a trail of muttering and black looks in his wake.

“They don’t look very pleased about your victory,” Merlin said, enunciating carefully.

“They’re just annoyed because I also won the contest last year,” replied Gwaine breezily. “And the year before that. And the year before that.”

“Really? Four years in a row?”

“Well, five actually. Not my fault none of them can hold their drink,” Gwaine proclaimed loudly, earning him another round of disgruntled looks from the tavern patrons.

Merlin put an arm round Gwaine’s shoulders and steered him back to the table he’d been sitting at previously. He tried not to notice how much they were leaning on each other.

“So what’s the prize for winning this contest, anyway?” he asked, when they were seated again.

“Free ale every time I visit the tavern for the next year,” Gwaine replied. “And unofficially, a kiss from the barkeep’s daughter. Although I don’t think the barkeep knows about that part.”

Merlin looked over to where the girl in question was serving the other customers. She was one of the only people in the tavern who didn’t appear to be put out by Gwaine’s victory. Indeed, she was actually throwing hopeful looks over to their corner, obviously eager to play her part in the proceedings.

“So why don’t you go over there and claim your prize, then?” said Merlin, gesturing with his mug. Ale slopped over the rim and doused his hand.

Gwaine glanced quickly towards the girl and shrugged. “Nah.” Then he cocked his head towards Merlin. “I’d rather have a kiss off you,” he said.

Merlin blinked, wondering for a moment if he’d heard aright. Then, “You’re drunk,” he said.

“Probably,” Gwaine agreed.

“And so am I,” Merlin pointed out. He could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Undoubtedly.”

“Therefore neither of us knows what we’re saying.”

“I know _exactly_ what I’m saying, thank you very much,” replied Gwaine, in mock indignation. Then he winked. “So how about it? Can I claim my prize?”

Merlin looked at him for a moment, face flaming. Then, abruptly, he stood up, chair scraping along the floor, and walked away.

He knew Gwaine would be following.

*~*~*~*~*

The door to the room they’d taken at the tavern was a trifle rickety, and Merlin wasn’t actually at all sure it wasn’t just going to swing open at any moment.

However, he couldn’t really bring himself to care about that at this point, pressed as he was against the wall with Gwaine kissing him thoroughly, if rather sloppily.

Gwaine was a very good kisser.

“I would have thought you’d be more interested in the free ale part of the prize…” Merlin said, when he had an instant in which to speak.

“Normally, I would be,” said Gwaine, his hands busily unwinding Merlin’s scarf from around his neck. “But this year a more attractive option presented itself.” He started to push Merlin’s coat off his shoulders.

Merlin swallowed. Gwaine was looking at him out of dark (but still somehow mischievously twinkling) eyes, and his lips were wet and kiss-swollen. It was a good look on Gwaine. “But…but…” Merlin stuttered, trying to pull his thoughts together. “Girls, you’re always flirting with girls. Gwen, and…”

“I told you, Merlin,” Gwaine said, as his fingers started to work on the laces on the front of Merlin’s trousers, “you’re the exception that proves the rule.”

There was no more talking after that.

But there was a lot more kissing.


End file.
